


Called It

by fluffbuttcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Blow Jobs, Camping, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, but here's your warning, they're both 17 so I don't know if that counts as underage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:37:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3000047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffbuttcas/pseuds/fluffbuttcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Classmates Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak hate each other, but their parents don't. Things change when they're dragged on a camping trip and forced to share a tent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Called It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt:  
> Okay, so like teen AU where Dean and Cas' parents are best friends but they hate each other and they all go camping for a week and Dean and Cas are forced to share a tent and they end up cuddling and when they wake up they're like that didn't happen and the rest of the week the sexual tension just sorta builds (like going swimming with some "accidental touching") until they can't handle it anymore and either (your choice) have a super fluffy coming together or the smuttiest smut coming together.  
> (They're both 17 if that bothers you).

Dean loves camping, normally. It's only when his idiot classmates decide to come along that the sport starts to lose its appeal.

“You and Castiel will have to share a tent, alright, honey?”

“ _Mom_.”

“Dean. We've been planning this for months, behave yourself.”

“ _Uuugggh_.”

Mary Winchester and Pamela Novak are great friends. Their children, unfortunately, are not.

“Do I _have_ to go?” Dean whines.

“Dean, I know you don't like Castiel, but Ellen’s already looking after Sam, and I don’t want to push that woman any further.”

“Can’t I just stay home by myself?”

“For a whole week? No. You're 17, and still a kid.” Another _ughh_ from Dean.

“What is so wrong with him that you can't get along for just a few days?”

_He's pretentious, he's too quiet, he asks too many questions, he stares me a lot and it really freaks me out, he always sounds like he needs a drink of water or he's stoned or something..._

“Nothing. Fine,” he says bitterly, defeated. Mary sighs and resumes shoving one of the tents into the giant trunk of their Chevy Impala.

~ ~ ~

Monday morning, the Novaks are crammed into their van and rolling along the interstate towards Castiel's doom: Dean Winchester. He's arrogant, he's rude, he's inappropriate, loud, and just gross. He's also Castiel's roommate for the next seven days.

He's given up complaining about it, as his mother wouldn't hear any of it. She says that Dean's cute. _Ew_.

Castiel settles on bringing a few books and an iPod to distract himself. He can only hope Dean won't try to initiate conversation.

~ ~ ~

“Heya, Cas.” Dean shifts his weight on the log awkwardly, crossing his legs. They didn't speak for the entirety of the several mile walk up to the campsite. Cas groans inwardly, as Dean's decided to break the ice.

“I told you, call me Castiel.”

They are silent for a minute.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas asks without turning his head.

“What? Nothing. Nothing, I just, I figured since we're gonna be around each other the next few days... Never mind.” Dean visibly gives up whatever truce he was aiming to propose.

The sound of hot dogs sizzling on the little stove Dean's mother's brought fills the silence as they sit.

The rest of the evening proceeds similarly.

~ ~ ~

When night finally arrives, the two head into their tent reluctantly, avoiding as much eye contact as possible.

“'Night, Cas,” Dean offers. Castiel glowers at the nickname.

“Good night, Winchester,” he replies, zipping up his sleeping bag.

When Castiel wakes up, it's pitch-dark, and cold. He feels something rubbing up against his back.

Dean Winchester is snuggled up against Castiel's sleeping bag. His arm is draped over Castiel's head, mouth hanging open (he can't decide if it's revolting or endearing), letting out obnoxious snores right into his ear.

Cas has absolutely no idea how to react. They hate each other, right? Cas should be disgusted, push him off, yell, get angry. But he can't. He doesn't want to wake Dean—he finds him much more bearable like this, still and quiet. He can't bring himself to move. Dean is so warm, and he's never been this cold in his life, he thinks. At a loss for what to do, Cas doesn't do anything at all. Readjusting his sleeping bag and rubbing his eyes, he tries to go back to sleep, cuddled up against Dean Winchester.

Since they're stuck here together, they might as well get along, right?

In the morning, Dean is horrified to find his arms wrapped around Castiel friggin' Novak. Ew. What the fuck was his subconscious thinking?

Initial terror aside, though, Cas looks pretty cute—downright adorable—pressed up against his chest, hair sticking up in all directions, making the tiniest little snores. He is cuddling with Dean's arm. _Fuck_.

Dean hates himself for it, but a timid voice in the back of his mind suggests that maybe the reason he hates Castiel so much was because he's so damn _likable_. He's definitely hot. He's kind, intelligent, endearing, a little naive, interesting, and **—** he really can’t think of any other word for it **—** cute.

Fuck, Dean thinks. Or rather, Dean says, as his voice wakes the other boy up.

“Dean?” he hears. In a panic, he shoves away from Cas, pressing himself up against the opposite side of the tent. A sparrow is now chirping outside, and there's sunlight shining through the tent.

Castiel blushes as the night's happenings flood back to him. He's not really sure what one should do in this situation. Dean clears his throat.

“Listen, buddy,” Dean growls, “I don't know what you think you saw just now, but it never happened. Forget it. Don't you _ever_ say anything about this, capiche?”

Cas gulps, and nods. They get dressed in silence and Cas leaves the tent in seconds.

~ ~ ~

Things really go to crap when it's time to go swimming in the lake.

Everything starts out great, really. They walk down to the little lake a few minutes from their campsite, carrying towels, sunblock, and a basket holding a blanket and sandwiches. The place is deserted, a few a birds and crickets chirping, afternoon sun sparkling on the water. Dean thinks maybe the trip isn't that bad. That is, until Cas takes off his shirt.

They set down their load and lay out a blanket on the grass, Mary and Pamela claiming their spots and popping open some sodas. After they drown the boys in sunscreen, of course.

Dean heads over to a rock next to the water to take off his sneakers and shirt. Cas follows suit. He tugs his ACDC shirt over his head with a yawn. As he's setting the shirt down in the grass, he notices that Cas's eyes are fixed on him. He also notices Cas's lack of a shirt, and his tanned, lean stomach, and the smooth expanse of his chest, and bronze skin, and fuck why did he have to be so attractive.

Dean really hopes his sudden erection isn't too noticeable through his swim trunks. He decides that now is a good time to get in the water. Forcing his eyes away from Cas's chest, he slips off his shoes and wobbles over to the lake, keeping his back to Cas. Thank God his and Cas's mothers are quite a ways away, at the edge of the lawn where it turns into forest.

Dean pokes his toe into the water, surprised to find that it's a comfortable temperature. He hears footsteps coming towards him, so—still sporting an impressive hard on—he runs into the lake. Things are silent for a moment, apart from the sound of Cas making his way into the water. He stops when it's up to his hips, a few feet behind Dean.

“Dean?” he asks quietly. “Are you angry at me?”

Dean's caught off guard. “What?” he says, still not facing him.

“Are you an **—** ”

“Yeah, Cas, I heard you,” he mumbles. What happened to the whole hating each other thing? Shouldn't both of them be mad at each other on principle? “Um, No. I'm not.”

“Oh.” Castiel visibly calms. “Good.” Dean turns around.

“What made you think that?” Cas looks even more gorgeous with his skin glistening wet, somehow now standing unnervingly close to him in the water. Dean doesn't necessarily have to hate him, does he? Nobody ever said it was a rule or anything.

“Just, after last night, I... Sorry, you told me not to talk about it.” Castiel looks ashamed. Why did Dean hate him again? He can't remember the specifics, but he knows it has something to do with how he acts, and his voice. The problem is that he can't remember what's wrong about them.

“No, no, it's fine. We're good, man,” Dean mumbles. “You wanna actually swim or something?”

“Of course.” Cas dives under the water and Dean sees a figure gliding under the surface. Cas's head pops up several yards away.

“You like to swim?” Dean doesn't know why he's asking.

“Very much, actually,” Cas calls over to him. He has a goofy, endearing smile on his face. “What about you?”

“Nah. I mean I like it, but I don't really do it often.” Dean doggy paddles over to where Cas is, the water now up to his chest.

“That's apparent.” The little jerk is smirking. Dean splashes him.

Cas looks like a kicked puppy, and Dean is scared he's screwed up. Then he retaliates, splashing a bunch of water into Dean's face. After the shock has worn off, a devilish smile grows on Dean's face. A war has begun.

Within a few minutes the two are soaked everywhere, water droplets dripping down Dean’s nose. Now it’s quiet except for a dull hum surrounding them, the sounds of crickets and birds melding pleasantly into a single tone. Castiel can faintly hear Mary and his mother laughing.

He notices how Dean’s eyes match the color of the oak leaves above him.

Castiel cups Dean’s jaw with a gentle hand, directing his lips down to his, and kisses him.

Their mouths fit together spectacularly. Dean’s lips are soft and warm, and Castiel’s taste like cinnamon gum. They stay that way for a little while, softly, almost chastely exploring each other.

They pull apart when Mary announces it’s almost time for dinner. Dean wades a little too quickly across the lake, avoiding Castiel’s eyes.

Dinner is awkward, to say the least. They roast hot dogs and drink lemonade in silence, Mary and Pamela busy talking with each other as usual. If they notice the tension, they don’t acknowledge it.

~ ~ ~

When the boys are lying in the tent, each facing away from the other, Castiel finally says something.

“I’m sorry.” He sounds sad, sheepish expression illuminated by the dim glow of the hanging lantern between them. Dean rolls over, and he looks ashamed.

“For what,” he grumbles, more a statement than a question.

Castiel hesitates. “Kissing you.” When Dean doesn't respond, he adds, “I didn't know you didn't want to, I just kind of assumed, I mean, I’m **—** ”

“Cas,” Dean interrupts. “I did want to.” He still can’t quite meet the other boy’s eyes. “It’s not your fault.”

Castiel is stunned. “What?”

Dean finally looks up, angry. “I wanted to kiss you, god fucking damn it,” he half-yells, forehead in his hands. Cas scoots his sleeping bag across the tent, covering the distance between them.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asks sincerely, and Dean feels like his eyes are boring into his soul. Dean is quiet for a moment.

“I,” he says quietly, “I don’t know.” He does have an idea, though. Dean knows very well that he has way more than his fair share of repressed feelings and shit leftover from his father’s awful parenting, but he’d prefer not to acknowledge them, at least for the moment.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas says, without explanation, as he moves closer. He waits.

“Can I kiss you again?” Dean asks, his voice small.

“Of course,” Cas murmurs, grinning.

Dean moves in first this time, and lets out a barely-there noise of content when their lips meet. The kiss starts off just like their last one, almost innocent. After a few moments, though, Castiel’s tongue is nudging at Dean’s lips. He parts them, and Dean groans into his mouth. Cas slides an arm around his waist at the sound, his other hand running through Dean’s hair. Dean breaks the kiss, both boys panting, foreheads touching.

“Do you wanna turn off the lantern?” he asks.

Cas nods his head fervently, switching it off himself. Dean immediately wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer, kissing him again, more fiercely than before. He nips at Castiel’s lower lip, drawing a moan from the other boy. Soon they’re entangled in each other, lips melding together in searing kiss after searing kiss.

Dean lets out a loud groan when Castiel straddles him without warning, grinding hard into Dean’s hips.

“Cas,” he pants, hands grasping at his shoulders. He bucks his hips up into Castiel’s, his body moving on instinct.

“Dean,” Cas replies, and he sounds wrecked.

“Never done this,” Dean gasps as they grind together, “Not with a guy.”

“I’ve never done this at all,” Castiel says, looking into Dean’s eyes through the darkness. He kisses him again.

Dean isn’t sure what to do next, so he pulls at Cas’s belt questioningly. Cas nods quickly, hands curling in Dean’s hair. He unbuckles the boy’s belt and pulls it off, tossing it to the other end of the tend. Cas follows suit. Dean is an unstoppable force now, overcome by lust, pulling of Castiel’s shirt and tugging at his pants. Within seconds the two are left in nothing but boxers and socks.

Cas pushes Dean down onto the sleeping bag, crawling up his body almost predatorily. _Never done this, my ass,_ Dean thinks. His breath catches when he sees Castiel looking up at him, eyes lust-blown, as he pulls down his boxers. They lock eyes, and Castiel licks up the underside of his length.

“Oh my god,” Dean moans, grabbing onto Cas’s hair. “Cas,” he mumbles deliriously.

He swirls his tongue around the tip, and asks, “Is this good, Dean?” Dean can’t tell if he’s being a little shit on purpose or if he honestly doesn’t know, so he replies with a groaned yes. Cas grins, and takes Dean into his mouth. He can’t take nearly all of him, but he’s so enthusiastic about it and it feels so incredible Dean feels like he’s either going to pass out or come.

“Cas,” he manages, “fuck, Cas, you need to stop or I’m gonna come, I’m **—** ”

Cas pulls of of him with a wet pop, and licks his lips.

“Jesus. Come here.”

Dean rolls them over, pinning Cas to the sleeping bag and yanking down his boxers. “God, Cas, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out. Cas hums in content, closing his eyes for a moment. Dean takes the opportunity to crawl down and tentatively kiss his cock.

“Dean,” Cas groans loudly.

“Is this okay?” Dean asks, mouth hovering over his length.

“Yes, _please_ , Dean,” he gasps. Taking that as answer enough, Dean slides his mouth over Castiel’s cock. The boy lets out a sinful noise, hands clutching at Dean’s hair. He pulls off, but before Cas can complain, he kisses him. He aligns their cocks and takes them both in his hand, starting to jerk them off together.

They both let out groans at that, and Cas reaches down to interlock his fingers with Dean’s free hand. Dean pumps his fist faster, squeezing Castiel’s hand. The boys are breathing heavily, and it’s about a thousand degrees warmer in the tent than before they kissed. They’re both so close, and when Dean speeds up the movements of his hand, Castiel gasps.

“I’m gonna come, Dean, oh God, Dean, _Dean **—**_ ” Castiel comes all over Dean’s hand, and Dean follows, panting and sweating and toes curling.

Dean rolls onto his side and they lie there for a few moments, blissfully riding out the aftershocks.

With a huff, Dean grabs a sock and cleans them both up. He scoots closer to Cas, who he finds connecting their sleeping bags. Cas looks up at him and smiles a little bit, embarrassed. Dean grins and wiggles into the sleeping bag cocoon, gesturing for Cas to join him.

When the two are cuddled up inside, Dean sighs happily.

Cas whispers into his neck, “What was it you were upset about?”

“Shut up,” Dean says, pushing his shoulder playfully. Castiel falls asleep with his head resting on Dean’s chest, Dean with his arms around him.

~ ~ ~

In the morning, they make pancakes.

Over breakfast, Pamela catches the boys sitting close to each other, giggling like girls, hands touching slightly. She nods her head in their direction, and Mary smirks.

“Called it.”

 

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**Author's Note:**

> (Prompt from superwholock-foo.tumblr.com)  
> All mistakes are mine.


End file.
